


Fare Thee Well

by maryloohoo



Category: The Grinning Man - Philips & Teitler/Grose & Morris & Philips & Teitler/Grose
Genre: Angst, Dea can’t sleep and Grinpayne is sweet, Fluff, Folk songs ensue, Gen, Insomnia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:35:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26112757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryloohoo/pseuds/maryloohoo
Summary: “ Luckily, Grinpayne had always been very good at helping Dea. The first time that he had noticed how long it took her to fall asleep, back when they were small enough to share a bed, he had stayed up all night, singing her snatches of lullabies and telling her stories....”When Dea has trouble sleeping, Grinpayne sings to her.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Fare Thee Well

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is entirely @ratcarney on tumblr’s fault for making such a sweet little headcanon about Grinpayne singing...and also calling me a coward for wanting to write fluff instead of angst.

Dea had never been very good at sleeping. It wasn’t that she wasn’t tired. She usually was. It just happened that most nights her body, and worse, her mind, fought tooth and nail against letting her fall asleep. Since she could remember, she’d always found herself lying awake at night for what seemed like ages. 

Luckily, Grinpayne had always been very good at helping Dea. The first time that he had noticed how long it took her to fall asleep, back when they were small enough to share a bed, he had stayed up all night, singing her snatches of lullabies and telling her stories. She hadn’t fallen asleep right away, but it was much more pleasant than tossing and turning and trying to make her mind be quiet for long enough to let her rest. She had told Grinpayne so, and he had resolved then and there to do the same thing any time Dea had trouble sleeping. Which turned out to be very often. Thus, it had become a habit of Grinpayne’s to check on Dea just before he went to bed, to see if she was anywhere close to being able to sleep or if she was about to stay awake for the next four hours. If she was having trouble, he would sit by her bed and sing to her until she fell asleep. Dea didn’t love insomnia, but she loved Grinpayne, and she loved listening to him sing.

There was always a music to the sounds Grinpayne made, in Dea’s opinion; his sighs, his shouts, his “Dea”s especially. But his singing voice was a different thing entirely. It was high, and sweet, and made her feel at once like she was flying through the cool morning sky and cocooned warm like a bear for the winter with her honey. It was beautiful, objectively so, and Dea knew that Grinpayne had no idea. She fought with herself often over whether or not she should tell him, but always fell asleep right before she came to a decision. Maybe she would’ve preferred just being able to fall asleep easily and having Grinpayne sing for her in the daytime, but she knew that neither of those things were going to happen any time soon, so she took what she could get. 

This particular night, like any other, Dea went to bed, tried to sleep...and failed. As usual. She heard Ursus and Grinpayne still moving about in the front half of the caravan, muttering in low tones about the new puppets Ursus was making for something or other. She heard footsteps approaching the curtain that hung stretched across the middle of the caravan, and then heard the brush of heavy canvas being pushed aside. She made sure to open her eyes as wide as they would go, so there would be no mistake for Grinpayne that she was wide awake. 

She heard Grinpayne laugh. “Difficult night?” he said. 

“You could say that”, she answered, blinking.

He sighed in acknowledgment, and then lowered himself to a seat on the floor by the head of her bed. Dea flung her hand over the edge of her bed and he took it in his, stroking the back gently with his thumb.

“It is very late, snowdrop”, Grinpayne said. 

“I know”, Dea moaned, “believe me, if I could be asleep right now I would be”. 

“Well I’ll see what I can do,” Grinpayne said quietly. “Is there anything you want to hear, Dea?” 

Dea thought for a moment. “I like Barbara Allen”, she said. 

“Barbara Allen?” Grinpayne asked, half in surprise, half in scorn. “The one about the boy who dies of a broken heart when a girl ignores him?” 

“And then she dies afterward from guilt and sorrow, yes” Dea finished happily. 

“That’s going to help you sleep?” Grinpayne asked. Dea could’ve sworn she heard the corners of his eyes crinkling in his voice. 

“Why shouldn’t it? The tune is very sweet” she said innocently. Grinpayne hummed in amusement, then started to sing. Dea wriggled happily, listening to his voice dip and swing through the melody about spurned suitors and tragic hindsight.

As he finished that song and started another, Dea debated with herself, as she did every time they did this. Was it worth it to tell him how lovely he sounded? On the one hand, it might be encouraging for him. Dea knew there was a reason he only ever sang for her, in the quiet moments when no one else would be paying attention. She wanted him to know that he didn’t have to be so secretive about it. And if she told him, he would probably make that little huffy chuckle sound that he made whenever she complimented him. Dea dearly wanted to hear that chuckle. 

On the other hand, though, it could be that he would get overwhelmed, or embarrassed by the compliment, and stop singing. Maybe it would be for just tonight, but maybe it would be forever. The thought had never occurred to Dea before, but now that it had, she couldn’t stand it. So she resolved not to tell him, not now. Instead, she would just stay awake for as long as she could, to keep listening to him sing. 

Which, with the powers of insomnia and Dea’s indomitable will combined, ended up being a very long time. Grinpayne’s voice never faltered, never shook, as he circled through song after song that were all so familiar to Dea she could’ve sung along. But finally, finally, Dea found herself dozing, faintly registering that the song Grinpayne was singing was one she had never heard before. She caught lyrics about fare thee well and melting rocks and turtle doves as she drifted off, but above all that, an indescribable...longing in Grinpayne’s voice that hadn’t been there before. Then suddenly the tune stopped. There was an intake of breath, but instead of more words, there was a sigh. Then another. Then it turned into a sob. Then another. 

Dea was wide awake in an instant. Grinpayne was still on the floor next to her bed, weeping as if his heart would break. Dea sat up in bed. 

“Grinpayne?” she asked worriedly, “Grinpayne, why are you crying?” 

She received no response but sobs. Now she was frightened. Dea was no stranger to Grinpayne being in pain, but she couldn’t remember it ever making him cry before. 

What Dea did next admittedly wasn’t the most well-thought out, but she would defend herself later by reminding Grinpayne of how intensely afraid she was. She rolled sideways off of her bed and directly on top of the crying boy. He yelped. Well, at least the weeping had stopped for the moment. 

Dea shifted off of Grinpayne so she was sitting next to him on the floor. One small hand felt its way to the heaving chest as the sobbing started anew, and the other onto his back. 

“Where does it hurt, Grinpayne?” she asked, trying to keep her voice as level as possible. She was answered by sobs. 

“You need your medicine” she declared, shifting her weight to stand and go get it from the shelf. Quick as a whip, Grinpayne clapped his hand over hers on his chest, holding it there. Dea felt him fight to regulate his breathing. 

Once the sobs had subsided, Grinpayne whispered, “It’s not that kind of a pain, Dea”. 

Dea trailed the hand that was on Grinpayne’s back up his neck and around to his face, finding the bandages damp. A little further up, and she could feel that there were still tears falling from his eyes. 

“What kind of a pain is it?” she whispered back. 

“I don’t know” he said, with more fear in his voice than Dea had heard in a very long time. 

Dea leaned down, wrapping her arms around his waist, as Grinpayne’s arms came up automatically to encircle her small frame. 

“Are you afraid of something?” she asked. 

“No” he murmured, “I wasn’t afraid until now. Once second I was singing and then the next...” His voice trailed off, seemingly lost in it’s own thoughts. 

“Were you sad?” Dea ventured. 

Grinpayne let out a deep sigh. “Yes”, he said, “I think I was”. 

Dea was only a little confused. “Was it the song making you sad?” she asked.

“I don’t...I don’t think so?”, Grinpayne answered, “I’ve heard sadder songs, I just-“ he broke off, breathing sharply. 

Dea recognized those breaths. “Now do you need your medicine?” she asked. 

“It’s barely anything; I’ll be fine in a moment”, Grinpayne said. 

The two of them sat in silence, waiting for the wave of pain to pass through Grinpayne’s body. Dea held him tightly. 

Once it was over, they stayed where they were, huddled on the floor. Dea could tell Grinpayne didn’t feel like moving, and she was content to remain where she was, bundled up in his arms, for as long as he needed her there. 

“I was thinking about my father”, Grinpayne said suddenly. 

“What?” asked Dea, “About Ursus?” 

“No,” said Grinpayne slowly, “about my father”. 

Dea sat up as much as she could with Grinpayne’s arms still around her. 

“Were you remembering something?” she asked quickly. 

“I can’t...I can’t remember what was in my head,” Grinpayne said, “One moment I was singing and then suddenly my head was full of something and my mind told me that it was ‘Father’ and then-“ he trailed off again, lost somewhere in his mind. 

The breaths Grinpayne was taking now threatened a second round of tears. Dea knew that she needed a distraction. In her second moment of rash decision-making that evening, she told him. 

“You have a very good voice you know” Dea said quietly. 

“What?” Grinpayne asked, startled out of his thoughts.

“Your voice”, Dea said, “it’s beautiful”. Feeling brave, she continued, “Listening to you sing is one of my favorite things to do. I hadn’t told you because I was afraid you’d be embarrassed and stop singing”. 

Grinpayne hugged her back into him. 

“You were afraid I would stop?” he asked. 

“Yes very”, Dea said. 

“I would never stop, Dea”, Grinpayne said, “Not as long as you still need me to”.

”Oh, Grinpayne,” Dea started.

“And especially now”, Grinpayne continued, “how could I stop now that I know it’s something that makes you happy?” 

Dea buried her head into his chest. She heard him whisper “Thank you, Dea”. 

Dea sighed, relieved.

“Maybe a different song for now, though”, Grinpayne said. 

Dea thought for a quiet moment, and then, turning her head away from his body so that he would hear her, she asked, “Grinpayne?”

“Yes, my love?” 

“Do you know any songs about Beauty and the Beast?”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: both of the songs I explicitly reference in this fic are real 18th century folk songs that make me emo on a regular basis! There are some very good and very bad modern recordings of both. These are my personal favorites. 
> 
> Here’s the one that Dea asked for:   
> https://youtu.be/t3ErAERSmqY
> 
> And here’s the one that stirred up some Emotions in Grinpayne (definitely don’t think about this one in the context of his father singing it. Definitely don’t do that):  
> https://youtu.be/413dDEKurGk


End file.
